Ferte in Noctem
by Satellites on Parade
Summary: "So you haven't been sorted yet, then?" Conner asked. Artemis shrugged, fiddling with her robes. "No," she replied. "It's the first on my to-do list, though." Hogwarts AU.
1. A New Face

**What is it with me and AUs? I don't even know. They just eat me alive and then digest me in the form of poorly written fanfiction. Yes, _I_ am the fanfiction in this scenario. Don't question me.**

**Not that anyone cares, but I'll say it anyway: Don't worry; Auld Acquaintance is still always my top priority. That aside, let's talk about how all of this is gonna go down.**

**This is a Hogwarts AU. _Not a Harry Potter one_. That would just be silly! The Harry Potter characters have got that covered. This is the YJ characters at Hogwarts, plain and simple. _Wow_, that sounds really dumb out loud!**

**This thing doesn't have any particular plot or direction. It's just going to be a collection of snippets that take place in this little Hogwarts "universe." Quidditch games! Class shenanigans! More Quidditch! Kaldur being a Prefect! Etc. Kaldur being a Prefect is the only enjoyable part. **

**I'm just going to work on this as it comes to me. It's going to be a fun way for me to relax and kick back and do something that's purely for my own enjoyment once in a while, when I need a break from other things, or when I need to practice a little. This is a super super informal thing. The update schedule will be irregular, but it'll probably update once a month at the least. **

**Last, but certainly not least: The title, _Ferte in Noctem_, comes from the song "In Noctem" off of the _Half-Blood __Prince_ soundtrack. The more you know!**

**Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to nor affiliation with _Young Justice_ or _Harry Potter_.**

* * *

**Ferte in Noctem**

**A _Young Justice_ AU**

**written by _Brella_**

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****Wally West had always hated trains.

They had a rather unfortunate tendency to feel more sluggish than any other method of travel he had ever encountered, although that could be due to the fact that he had been steering around various Cleansweep models since he was five, or perhaps that he was impatient by nature, and hardly saw the point of watching assorted landscapes flitting by when Apparation was an entirely plausible option.

The Hogwarts Express was no different. Even when he was a first year, Wally had despised the waiting, the fidgeting, the seemingly endless anxiety of checking the window every few seconds to attempt to sight upon the silhouette of Hogwarts in the distance, its turrets stark and beckoning beyond the hills. The notion that it was so agonizingly far, but just close enough that he had no choice but to sit like a lump in a train car for several hours before he could reach it, drove him all sorts of mad.

It did not help matters that, during the train ride of his first year, he had been trapped in the caboose with a pimply Hufflepuff girl who smelled of shrivelfig and stole a large number of his Chocolate Frogs. He had been convinced since that point that each of his journeys to Hogwarts in the ensuing years would be torturous and unbearable, but miraculously, they had gotten better, company and all.

Beaming, he gathered all he could procure from the trolley into his arms and dropped two Sickles into its cheery pusher's arms, winking at her as she continued down the corridor. A group of Gryffindor third-year girls went dashing by, and a short blonde one with wide brown eyes halted when she spotted Wally, her face brightening. He winked, she flushed and giggled, and her twitter-paited companions grabbed her by each of her wrists to drag her along, chattering and blushing as Wally raised his hand to wave after them.

"I wish you'd quit doing that," one of his compartment-mates grunted, a barrel-chested boy with black hair and an omnipresent scowl whose robes always had a tendency to look slightly too short on him.

"You can't just switch it on and off, Con," Wally riposted with a tortured sigh.

"Oh, _please_," Conner grumbled.

Conner Kent was a sixth-year who was borderline misanthropic in his aversion to socialization, but that disagreeable nature had done little to deter Wally when he had been a first year and Conner had been a second and Wally had witnessed him snap a Slytherin's wand in half after it had cast a hex on an unsuspecting Gryffindor first-year. Wally, star-struck by the boy's bravery, had made it his mission in life to follow him mercilessly around and pepper him with questions until he acquiesced into _not_ shoving him into whichever wall happened to be nearby.

"I don't know why _you're_ complaining," the third member of the trio in the compartment piped up, cocking a skeptical eyebrow. "You've got a few – _fans_ yourself."

"Just like you've got the Nguyen girl, right, Roy?" Wally teased, elbowing the speaker with a suggestive smirk.

Roy's face reddened, igniting his blue eyes into a rather murderous mode, and he punched Wally in the arm with a growl.

Roy Harper was a seventh-year, held back from graduating the term before due to an altercation he had with a Slytherin student by the name of Jade Nguyen, whom he had given a black eye and whom had given _him_ the need for a Blood-Replenishing Potion in the hospital wing. His untidy red hair had a tendency to stand on end as though he was constantly plugging himself in to an electrical outlet, and he and Conner were easily tied for the most intimidating scowl in the entire school. Wally could hardly complain that Roy had been held back – if it meant receiving another year of having him as Quidditch captain, there was nothing to squabble about.

All three boys were on the Quidditch team, and that was perhaps what made the lot of them so well known among those of the giggling female variety – _especially_ Wally, who, with his status as Seeker, had garnered the largest amount of attention from said sect of students. Conner was scrutinized for his brooding nature, and Roy was well liked by the Slytherin girls, for some peculiar reason, if Jade Nguyen was any indication. Roy and Conner were Gryffindor's cherished Beaters, both able to take out their inexplicable rage toward the world on the rogue bludgers during a game. Roy had been the Gryffindor team captain since his third year, but Wally had only known him in such a position since his fourth – this year would mark Wally's second season on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Conner's third, and Roy's fifth. Clearly, a large selection of their audience was looking forward to it, if the herd of first-year Hufflepuff girls who had spoken in hushed tones when they had spotted Wally boarding the train was any indication.

"Get your robes on," Roy barked, cuffing Wally behind the head. Wally batted him away in exasperation.

"Yes, Mum," he sang back. "As soon as I get through these Pumpkin Pasties."

"Pumpkin Pasties _again_?" Conner grimaced. "You already had ten!"

"Those were from home! They were an _exception_," Wally explained slowly as though it was perfectly obvious. He glanced down at the pile of treats in his lap. "You want anything? I've got some Ice Mice, I think…"

"I'll take a box of Bertie's," Roy said decisively, snatching a colorful box from the mountainous collection and popping it open, pouring six of the beans into his open palm.

"Oh, I think I spot an earwax," Wally observed, craning his neck over.

"Stuff it; I like earwax," Roy snapped back, flicking one of the candies into his mouth. "You were wrong. It's booger."

Wally made a face, tossing a Cauldron Cake to Conner, who caught it roughly. "Be careful with that, Conner, don't bloody _crush_ it."

"It won't make any difference what it tastes like," Conner muttered, sounding hurt at Wally's outburst.

"I think I saw Grayson a few compartments down," Roy interjected boredly, squinting at a dirt-colored bean before shrugging and eating it. "Urk—cow dung."

"You're having _excellent_ luck with those," Wally cackled. "And _Grayson_, really? He's in fourth year now, yeah?"

"Think so," Conner huffed, carefully peeling apart the wrapping on the Cauldron Cake. "He's sitting with that new Hufflepuff girl. The one who watches all the Muggle television. And—"

"Megan? Megan Morse? The transfer?" Wally supplied hurriedly, sounding far too excited.

The image of the pretty sixth-year girl with auburn hair and freckles who had transferred to Hogwarts the previous year from Beauxbatons, whose voice held its delicate _r_'s and _h_'s in the back of her throat, was presented with colorful clarity to him the moment Conner hinted at her existence, and Wally wasn't entirely afraid to admit it. Then again, when he had first spotted her in his Herbology class the previous year, he had all but collapsed forward into his unpotted dittany in an attempt to start conversation with her, which had immediately been taken over by Conner, even though Conner hadn't actually _said_ anything.

Megan, despite her sixth-year status, was in a great deal of her classes with Wally because of her transfer, and even in a few with Conner due to his crippling ineptitude at Divination (which Wally shared – the very _thought_ of the subject tempted him to repeatedly smash his head against a wall). The three boys had come to know the girl well in the previous year through their shared classes and her effervescent desire to be friends with anyone who so much as breathed in her general direction.

In point of fact, they were well acquainted with all of _her_ friends as well, particularly the ever-snickering Dick Grayson, a fourth-year Ravenclaw whose tiny stature and general devotion to mischief defined him as the resident prankster, a horribly _evil_ cretin who derived no greater pleasure in life than causing Wally's books to transfigure into rats or wind-up teeth or generally ink-soaked messes. In spite of the innumerable number of hours he undoubtedly spent on concocting various schemes, he still managed to find time to be at the top of his year and quite possibly the two ahead of him; he did not waste his Ravenclaw status, flaunting it in everything from his acerbic contributions in everyday conversation to his habitual dissection and rearrangement of the English language to his frequent habitation in the library to the fact that he ought not to have even been a fourth-year in the first place – the boy was thirteen, but he had skipped his third year, having apparently mastered all of the material over the summer.

Wally had not made it known to Conner and Roy, but if asked whom his closest friend was, he would say Dick without a moment's hesitation. Although the boy was a year behind him and largely enjoyed making his life miserable from time to time, they had grown extraordinarily close from the time Dick was a first year and Wally had taken him under his wing. Dick had made a name for himself since then, but the two boys still wrote constant letters to each other over the summer and spent a great deal of time together at Hogwarts – in fact, Wally had spent a week of the past holiday at Dick's home… or, well, his _manor_ (the only thing that the place had been missing was a moat, for Merlin's sake). It wasn't as though he kept his kinship with Dick a _secret_ from Roy and Conner, precisely, and honestly, once the train pulled in to Hogwarts, the four of them as well as their other friends would very likely begin spending every waking moment together as they always did, but Dick's tendency to get on Roy and Conner's nerves often kept Wally from confessing that he and Dick had formed a bond.

A bond that largely consisted of Dick mortifying him whenever possible, or at least mutilating his pride in some scarcely reparable way.

"You want to go drop in on them?" Roy mumbled, chewing carefully on another bean, his eyes narrowed. "We've still got a good hour before we get to the school."

"Don't say that, Roy," Wally groaned, throwing his head back lamentably. "You'll make it all _worse_."

"Where's Kaldur?" Conner inquired abruptly. "I thought I saw him at the platform—"

"He'll be around," Wally replied. "I hear he made prefect again this year."

"No surprise," Roy muttered, getting to his feet. "I'm going to go say hullo to the rest. Coming or not?"

"Not much else to do," Wally admitted with a shrug, carefully dumping the candy onto the space beside him and standing. Conner silently followed suit. "Lock the door; I don't want the first-years coming in here and nicking my candy."

"Now _that_ would be a tragedy," Roy sneered as the three exited the compartment. When the door closed behind them, he pulled his wand from the pocket of his trousers (chestnut, dragon heartstring, 8½"), pointed it at the door, and muttered, "_Colloportus_."

With that, he began to lead the way down the narrow corridor, past several compartments that contained various assortments of students – Wally sent a pointed sneer at a group of Slytherins in one, who were busy burning holes in the carpet – and sidling by a gaggle of passing second-years who all whispered Wally's name among themselves after they had gone past. Wally beamed winningly when Roy and Conner both scowled at him over their shoulders.

"There they are," Roy muttered, halting at the glass door of compartment 27.

Inside sat Dick Grayson, his loose black hair shifting as he cackled into his open palm, doubled-over in his seat; Megan Morse, whose locks were in a braid and who seemed to be sharing Robin's amusement; and in the corner, leaning against the window—

"Who is that?" Wally blinked, astonished, in utter confusion – the third member of Dick's party was, to his indescribable shock, a stranger to him.

"I saw her on the platform," Conner grunted.

"You see _everyone_ on the bloody platform," Roy snapped back, huffing.

"No, really!" Wally elbowed the two of them respectively with both of his arms. "Who is she? I've never seen her before."

"She can't be a first-year; she's too tall," Roy mused.

"Too angry-looking, too," Conner muttered. Wally snorted.

"That never stopped _you_."

The girl on whom their attentions were focused was of weathered skin and uncannily long blonde hair that was tied back with a navy blue scrunchie, whose expression was deadpan and uncomfortable as she stared out the window with dark gray eyes, and whose tie was black, sporting the Hogwarts coat of arms. Her knees were knobbly and spread apart, and her arms were crossed defiantly.

"Who _is_ that?" Wally reiterated in frustration.

Roy shoved him aside and opened the door, causing Dick and Megan to jump.

"Hey, quick, who are you?" he barked at the stranger, who didn't even flinch. She did not respond for a moment, but she finally seemed to catch on to the fact that he was talking to her and lifted her head away from the glass, turning it to glare at him. Wally blinked at her, bemused.

"Will this quiz be graded?" she snapped, eyes flicking to Wally and narrowing. He frowned back, not appreciating the expression.

"Just a simple question," Roy told her.

Dick let out a loud snort, his mouth curling into a leer.

"Don't mind the killjoy, Crock," he told the girl, nudging her. "He gets flustered around pretty girls."

"That's not the situation here, Grayson!" Roy bellowed, causing Dick to cackle madly into his fist. The girl whose last name was apparently Crock didn't look quite as amused.

"I'm guessing you're all acquainted?" she demanded, eyes still jerking in Wally's direction from time to time.

"Allow me," Dick declared with a flourish, standing. Megan was grinning at him, and gave Wally a small wave that he returned dazedly. "Gentlemen, meet Artemis Crock. She just arrived here from – where was it?"

"Home," Artemis Crock muttered.

"So she _is_ a first year," Conner mused. Artemis bristled.

"Fifth," she snapped back curtly. "_Thank you very much_." Her cheeks were slightly flushed, which Wally decided was an excellent cue for him to smooth down his hair and step forward, raising an eyebrow in greeting, smirking.

"Then I'm _sure_ you've heard of _me_," he interjected, extending a hand. Artemis stared skeptically at it as though frightened that it carried some sort of disease before frowning up at him.

"Nope," she replied coolly.

Wally twitched. Conner frowned behind him.

"But _everybody_'s heard of this idiot," he explained plainly. Artemis shrugged.

"I haven't," she said. "Is he important?"

"I'm right here!" Wally snapped indignantly. Megan chose that moment to step in.

"Artemis, this is Wally," she explained gently as though she were talking to a child. "He's—"

"If I'm going to be introduced to him, he can do it himself," Artemis grunted. Wally opened his mouth to retort, but Roy beat him to it.

"Okay, then. I'll start off. Roy Harper. Seventh year. I keep these two out of trouble." He jerked his head at Wally and Conner. "Got into a fight last year so they held me back."

"Yeah, I heard," Artemis mumbled, swiveling her hard gaze to Conner. "What about you?"

Conner looked painfully reluctant to provide her with that information.

"Conner," he said bluntly. "Kent. Sixth year. I'm – Beater on the Quidditch team. Like Roy."

"Oh, Quidditch players." Artemis seemed mildly impressed. She finally returned her attention to the stiff-shouldered Wally. "Your turn, Idiot-Who-Everybody's-Heard-Of."

Wally spluttered wordlessly for a moment before composing himself.

"Wally West," he eked out. "Gryffindor Seeker. I brought the team back into the top slot at Hogwarts last year and I'm going to keep it there."

"And you're, what, another seventh year?" Artemis drawled, staring at the wall.

"Fifth," Wally growled tersely. Artemis's eyebrows went up.

"Then you've got two more years to keep the Gryffindor team on its toes, I suppose," she muttered back. "Pleasure." She nodded to each of them in turn, not looking pleased at all.

"So you haven't been sorted yet, then?" Conner asked, still looking mildly annoyed by the situation.

Artemis sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"No," she answered dully. "That's the first thing on my to-do list, though."

"Sorting's the best part," Megan exclaimed gleefully, clapping her hands together. "The Hat sings a song, and then it _talks_ to you, and tells you where it thinks you belong, and—"

"Hey. Odd question here," Artemis interrupted her apologetically, glancing at the compartment-dwellers hesitantly. "But – does it take into account what… I mean, where _you think_ you belong?"

"Yeah," Conner replied immediately. All heads turned to him and he shrugged tightly, rolling his eyes. "Well, it _does_. It's a nice hat."

"Charming," Wally muttered sarcastically.

"Maybe you won't get Sorted at all," Dick teased her ominously, leaning forward and grinning with wicked relish. "Maybe they won't know what to do with you, so you'll have to go work with the House Elves in the kitchen! Or maybe you'll have to clean out the toilets!"

Artemis made a very rude gesture at him and snarled something about Bat-Bogey Hexing him to the ends of the earth and back, which caused Wally to guffaw behind one hand. Dick shrugged apathetically.

"Such a lovely, sweet-tempered girl," he mused. Artemis scoffed at him and shook her head, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as though it had done her some enormous wrong. Dick turned his attentions to Wally and smiled widely, eyes tightly closed with glee. "She's going to fit _right in_. You seen Zatanna about, by the way?"

Wally shrugged incredulously.

"Of course not! I've barely talked to her, stupid," he exclaimed. "That's more _your_ area."

"Zatanna?" Artemis asked cautiously, not sounding as if she wanted to be asking in the first place. "Not – not _the_ Zatanna. The Zatanna Zatara, Zatanna?"

"Oh, so you've heard of _Zatanna_, but you haven't heard of _me_," Wally grumbled. Artemis ignored him, watching Dick attentively for a reply.

"Yep, that one," Dick confirmed, sounding absurdly pleased about it. "You'd do well to make a good first impression with her. Though it isn't all that hard not to."

"It really isn't," Megan agreed conspiratorially. "The first time she met Conner was when he accidentally whacked his Bludger into her dormitory during practice last term."

"I was testing her," Conner grunted.

"Completely shattered her window," Dick expounded, nodding solemnly.

"Ruined her trunk," Megan added.

"Frightened her owl terribly," Dick said before perking up. "You have a pet, right? Do you want to see my owl?"

"N-No thanks," Artemis declined, looking rather overwhelmed. "We're – allowed pets?"

"Didn't you read your letter?" Wally said loudly, eyes wide. Artemis scowled at him.

"My mum opened it before I could," she told him harshly. "I threw it out."

Wally opened his mouth in shock to interrogate her as to why she would choose to do something so marvelously stupid, but Megan perked up suddenly, craning her neck to look out the window.

"There it is!" she cried, pointing. Everyone immediately crowded up to the glass pane, pressing their foreheads to it to catch a glimpse of the silhouette of the castle, finally appearing past the rolling golden hills, hard and dark against the setting sun.

Wally whooped enthusiastically and bounded out the door, sprinting down the corridor to his earlier compartment to put on his robes. He fumbled into them, accidentally putting his trousers on backwards twice, endeavoring in vain to tie his tie correctly but eventually giving up and leaving it in a loose untidy knot as usual. He swept up the candy and stuffed it all into his trunk, checked over the area to ensure that everything had been packed, and, when satisfied, zipped back to compartment 27.

"Twenty-eight seconds," Roy drawled. "You're losing your touch."

Wally made a face at him, straightening his robes. Dick was in the process of explaining to Artemis what would happen when they disembarked in fifteen minutes.

"So since it's your first year here, and you're due for your Sorting, they're going to take you to the school in the boats," he was telling her.

"Boats?" Artemis rasped. "With first years?"

Dick shrugged.

"Well, yes, but I promise that they're mostly housebroken—"

"And what are all…" Artemis shook her head as though dazed. "What are each of the houses – like? I mean…"

"Well, there's Ravenclaw," Roy expounded gruffly, jabbing his thumb in Dick's direction. "For the smartasses. And Hufflepuff, for the nice ones." Megan beamed proudly. "Gryffindor, for the—"

"Loud ones," Artemis supplied as if she knew. Roy snorted.

"Right. And Slytherin, for the—"

"Purely evil ones," Wally interpolated with gusto. Artemis's cheeks reddened peculiarly and she shrugged.

"Right. I feel so much more enlightened now that I know I might get labeled as purely evil," she muttered, and Wally instantly felt a surge of guilt, but he didn't have time to do much about it before the train began to slow, and the Hogwarts platform began to crawl into view.

"Look, look, there's Professor Logan!" A group of first-years went dashing by, gesticulating at the weary-looking woman who stood on the platform with a lantern in one hand and a walking stick in the other. Megan, when in her field of vision, waved, and Professor Logan nodded with a wan smile.

"Professor who?" Artemis asked hesitantly.

"Logan. Care of Magical Creatures," Dick provided. "Wait'll you meet Gar."

Artemis squinted. "Gar?"

"Don't ruin all the surprises before you've even gotten off the _train_!" Dick scolded her, whacking her arm playfully. She bristled.

The train at last came to a halt, and Wally was the first one out of the compartment the moment its wheels stopped turning. He supposed it would be in good taste to at least _try_ to fight the grin on his face, but he didn't bother. Roy and Conner were behind him in an instant, followed by the rest, and they were among the first off the train, preceded by the eager first-years from the next car down.

"All right!" Professor Logan bellowed, her voice shockingly clear and audible above the excited din of the students. "First-years, come with me!"

Without waiting for any confirmation that anyone had heard her, she turned sharply around and marched down the platform toward a wooded path. The first-years, after a moment's hesitation, surged forward to follow, and the entire herd of them was beginning to trail down the path and into the trees. Artemis fidgeted in her place.

"Go on," Roy told her, nudging her forward. She stumbled a bit and whirled on them.

"Aren't you all coming?" she exclaimed.

"_First years_," Wally drew out the word. "Wow. Rude _and_ deaf."

"Good luck," Dick told her with both sincerity and apology, rolling his eyes at Wally. "We'll all be at our tables, all right? Don't fret. Go on."

Artemis gave them all one last skeptical, somewhat terrified, look before spinning around and jogging after the crowd of the first-years.

"Watch out for the squid!" Wally shouted after her, and Dick elbowed him in the ribs.


	2. The Sorting

**Sorry this took so long! I've had a lot on my plate.**

**I hope I chose a good house for Artemis to be sorted into. It was so hard to choose. **

**Also, warning for gratuitous cameos beyond this point.**

**Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to nor affiliation with _Young Justice_ or the _Harry Potter_ series. **

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"Ravenclaw!"

Artemis fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, biting the inside of her cheek as she watched the excited-looking red-haired boy – _Bloomberg_, she thought the name was; she hadn't been listening – leaped off of the stool and sprinted over to the Ravenclaw table. She clenched her fists. She still had quite a while to wait, because transfer students were Sorted last, but that didn't stop the apprehension coursing through her.

The Great Hall was, for lack of a better word, enormous. It was able to house the entirety of Hogwarts' student population, so she supposed that _enormous_ was a good thing for it to be, but the vastness of its vaulted ceiling that reflected the sky outside (starry, somewhat cloudy, waning crescent moon) and its gold-lit walls still rendered her a bit dazed. She glanced over her shoulder to the four long tables, eyes catching the candles that floated over them. She vaguely wondered how the wax managed to avoid dripping down onto everyone's heads.

She spotted a hand pop up from the Ravenclaw table and wave, and she quickly followed the arm down to find that it belonged to Dick Grayson, who was beaming encouragingly at her. Seated across from him was a girl with silky, jet-black hair that cascaded past her shoulders; she seemed to share Dick's enthusiasm, for she gave Artemis a small wave as well, her clear blue eyes bright even in the crowd. Artemis blinked unresponsively at the two of them before scanning the remainder of the tables.

She spotted Wally in no time, his bright shock of red hair bursting out among the various blonds and brunets. He was zealously consuming a chicken leg without coming up for air, which was likely the explanation for the nauseated grimace on Roy's face beside him. Conner's attention was fixed firmly on the students being Sorted, and he noticed Artemis watching them, nodding solemnly at her. She flushed, turning away.

"Timothy Drake!" The woman that had met them in the Entrance Hall after Professor Logan had dropped them off was, if Artemis recalled correctly, one Professor Lance, a petite but somehow still imposing woman with blonde hair and blue eyes and a voice that silenced even the chattiest of first-years. She was holding out a scroll of parchment in front of her and reading each name from it with clarity and enunciation, giving encouraging nods to any students who looked nervous. She had given the lot of them a welcome speech earlier that Artemis couldn't be bothered to remember.

Timothy Drake, a raven-haired boy who was nimble and serious-looking, sat on the wooden stool that had been placed at the front of the Great Hall, gripping the edges nervously. Professor Lance placed the Sorting Hat, a brown and ratty thing, on his head, where it shifted pensively. After a moment, it declared, "Ravenclaw!", and Timothy Drake jogged over to join the Bloomberg boy.

It continued like that for quite a while. Artemis had a difficult time paying attention to most of it save for the sounds; she was too busy staring at a scuffed space on the floor, still tugging at her skirt.

"Anita Fite!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Suzanne King-Jones!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Kyle Rayner!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Rachel Roth!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Cassandra Sandsmark!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Victor Stone!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Raymond Terrill!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Courtney Whitmore!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Rose Wilson!"

"Slytherin!"

Artemis flinched. _Slytherin_. The utterance of it, the idea of it, was all but sacred in her family, a coveted testament to their extensive history and ambitious natures. Artemis hated the sound of it, the hissing it made against the back of her teeth. She stared at Rose Wilson as she strode to the Slytherin table and wondered if she should envy the pride she held or condemn it.

"And now we'll be moving on to transfer students," Professor Lance announced, closing the scroll she held and promptly opening another from under her arm. "Artemis Crock!"

Artemis's heart promptly shut down, but not so much that her limbs didn't carry her through the crowd and up to the stool, where she sat stiffly down, her hands set reticently in her lap. She caught a glimpse of Wally's red hair at the Gryffindor table moving as he lifted his head up to look at her before Professor Lance placed the Sorting Hat over her eyes and everything went suddenly dark.

_Ah… a Crock, I see. How interesting. You're a bit more diverse than your family, I must say. Much more interesting. You've got a bit of everything, my dear – not a lick of Hufflepuff in you, though; I can tell you that much…_

"Didn't think there would be," Artemis muttered before she could stop herself.

_Chatty one, aren't you? Needn't use your tongue to speak to me, girl. I can hear everything rustling about in your head; it's what I was made for. Now… let's see here. Got quite a bit of Gryffindor – impetuous, resilient, proud… loyal when you want to be, but you're a picky one about that! Oh, my dear, I see a dazzling amount of Ravenclaw in you, too… clever one, you are, quick to think and learn; you've got a wit about you, too, and a hunger for knowledge, for understanding… great deal of cynicism to boot. Seems to all add up quite nicely – but you would do **so **well in Slytherin—_

_No_, Artemis thought with all of her being. _No, no, anywhere but there. Anywhere. I can't belong there; I can't. Not after everything I've done to…_

_Oh, and you've done quite a bit, haven't you? Stubborn little slip of a thing, you are. Not inclined to follow in your family's footsteps, how typically Gryffindorian… you seek the opposite of where you come from, do you not? The antithesis of your own blood. And what better direction to go than Gryffindor? But you're not like they are, not quite. Whether you're inclined to Slytherin or not, you've got the cunning for it; the ambition… my dear, I can sense that you would burn all those who stood in the way of what you want._

_I wouldn't_, Artemis insisted. _You can't always get what you want. I know that. I understand that. And I won't go after what I can't have; I—I would never hurt—_

_Chivalrous! My darling, you're trying too hard, and it isn't even where you belong, really. _

_I have to belong there!_ Artemis all but shouted through her temples. _I have to belong __**somewhere**__!_

_Oh, you do. And I think it had better be…_

Artemis abruptly reached onto her head and tore off the Sorting Hat, throwing it furiously to the ground.

A collective gasp pulsed through the hall, tapering into silence at the back of the room. Artemis kept her eyes trained on the Sorting Hat and stepped forward, placing her foot on its brim, which caused it to glower up at her through its torn holes for eyes.

"Think hard," she whispered to it. "Think _really_ hard."

"Excuse me, Miss Crock!" Professor Lance grabbed Artemis's forearm with a steely tightness that took her by surprise, wrenching her away from the fallen Hat. "What in _Merlin's_ name do you think you're _doing_?"

"Just reminding it how to do its job," Artemis muttered, blowing her hair out of her eyes. Professor Lance fussed over the Hat for a moment, glowering venomously over her shoulder. Artemis, in spite of herself, couldn't help but balk a little.

"That is _hardly_ your place to—"

Professor Lance's tirade was cut off, somehow, by the faint sound of someone – _clapping_. Artemis glanced cautiously around, trying to find the source, and quickly wheeled on the staff's table, where a wizened man with twinkling blue eyes was slowly applauding, smiling almost _proudly_ down at her.

"Headmaster Nelson?" Professor Lance all but demanded, dusting off the Hat. Artemis went rigid. _The Headmaster_? Surely she was about to be expelled—

"Well _done_!" Nelson exclaimed gleefully. Artemis's eyes widened. "This Sorting business gets more and more dull every year, but you managed to wake me up!"

"I, uh…" Artemis spluttered, but Professor Lance was already herding her back to the stool.

"Don't _encourage_ her, Headmaster," she admonished Nelson, who shrugged, still smirking. She bent down to speak into Artemis's ear, her tone threatening. "Miss Crock, if you try anything like that again, I'll have you expelled. For now, you're pardoned. Now allow the Sorting Hat to _do its job _properly."

With that, she shoved the Hat back onto Artemis, and the Hall went quiet once more.

_That was certainly exciting. You're a little asp, aren't you? All right, all right. I'll bring this to an end. You **did** give me time to think. Let me ask you this, then. Answer honestly; I'll know if you don't. You are strolling along a path. Ahead of you lies the forest. To your left is the ocean. To your right is a castle, civilization. Which do you choose?_

_What came behind me? _Artemis asked, her throat dry. The Hat was silent for a great deal of time.

_Yes. What came behind you, indeed? _

She never thought a Hat could sound so pleased.

She held her breath as the brief second of silence expanded out, and at last, the Sorting Hat spoke.

"Ravenclaw!" it roared.

The Ravenclaw table thundered with applause, and Artemis thought she heard Dick cat-calling. The Hat was swiftly whisked off of her head and she was bedazzled once again by the bright lights of the Hall, by the enthusiasm of the Ravenclaw table as its inhabitants stood and clapped warmly.

Admittedly a bit stunned, Artemis didn't move from the stool, staring out at the scene with surprised eyes until Professor Lance lifted her up by the arm and shooed her down the few steps from the stone rostrum and toward the Ravenclaw table. Dick was bouncing out of his seat and waving his arms in the air to get her attention.

Artemis managed to get a hold of herself long enough to stride forward to where Dick was seated; he moved enthusiastically aside to accommodate her, and she squeezed herself into the space. People were cheering for her and the tall, bulky dark-skinned boy beside her – he bellowed something about his name being _Mal Duncan_ – clapped her eagerly on the back, knocking the wind out of her.

Dick was cackling. "Ease up, Miss Crock! Have you been petrified recently?"

"Shut up," Artemis heard herself say, and her ability to focus immediately followed. She narrowed her eyes askance at the beaming Dick before elbowing him. "What're _you_ so thrilled about?"

"What do you _think_?" Dick shoved her back, causing her to topple against Mal Duncan, who smirked. "Your glowing personality is the latest asset to my house. I have every _right_ to be thrilled."

Artemis frowned skeptically. "Oh."

Dick grinned stupidly at her for another few minutes before seeming to regain some semblance of sentience.

"Oh, I _almost_ forgot!" he declared breezily, and Artemis was sure that he hadn't almost forgotten whatever he was about to do in the slightest. He slung his arm around her, and before she could protest, continued, "Artemis Crock, meet Zatanna Zatara."

Artemis's eyes widened and she stiffened, sitting straight up to follow the arm he had extended with a flourish. It pointed to the raven-haired girl she had noticed earlier, seated directly across from them – she was fair-skinned and had an almost wicked-looking smirk of mirth on her pretty face. Her eyes were almost as blue as Dick's.

Artemis couldn't help the glower that came onto her face. The Zataras were a family of Purebloods much like hers, and she had taught herself to hold disdain for any family like hers. Most Purebloods tended to be pompous and exclusive, and she had heard many stories about the posh Zataras and their privileged lifestyles. They were considered among the most advanced at magic in the wizarding world, and truth be told, Artemis had always held a bit of envy for their precocious daughter, a girl with everything she could want in life – a loving father, good looks, bountiful magical talent, plenty of friends – and who likely hadn't even _heard_ of the kind of malicious world Artemis had grown up in.

"Hi," Artemis grunted.

Zatanna's smile faltered and she frowned very slightly, still keeping up the pleasant expression as best she could.

"Nice to meet you," Zatanna said hesitantly. "I think."

She extended her hand across the table to shake Artemis's. After a moment's hesitation, Artemis accepted, reciprocating the motion halfheartedly before quickly withdrawing.

"Uh, sorry, have we met?" Zatanna asked abruptly.

Artemis blinked.

"No." She folded her arms and leaned against the table, glancing aside at Dick, who still looked inexplicably satisfied by the whole affair. "Why?"

"Well, we must've, otherwise you wouldn't really have a reason for looking like you're ready to curse my hair off," Zatanna retorted, mirroring Artemis's movements. "Come on, give me a hint. What did I do?"

"Nothing," Artemis told her gruffly. She sighed, letting her tight shoulders loosen slightly. "I just don't really do well around royalty."

Zatanna stared at her blankly for a moment, and a palpable tension started to rise at their little section of the table, but suddenly, Zatanna exploded into loud laughter, her nose crinkling.

Artemis raised her eyebrow and looked to Dick for explanation, but he seemed just as amused as Zatanna, his cheeks high with a leer.

"You're both getting along swimmingly, I see," he giggled, and Dick Grayson was naturally the sort of person to use _swimmingly_ in everyday conversation, Artemis thought dryly.

"What's so funny?" Artemis demanded of the other girl, who wheezed back into composure and wiped at her eye with one dainty hand.

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry," Zatanna spluttered, barely choking back another guffaw. "It's just – wow, _royalty_. I guess I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Tch. Sure," Artemis muttered quietly, but apparently Zatanna heard her even over the din.

"Look, I'm not here to pass any judgments; I'm here to make friends and wave a few wands," Zatanna told her frankly, folding her hands under her chin and resting it on them, smirking still. "I heard your name. Crock. I'm presuming one of _the_ Crocks."

"As much as you're one of _the_ Zataras, yes," Artemis snapped back, resisting the urge to add a disdainful "princess" to the end of the sentence. "Although my lineage isn't exactly something to brag about. Not like yours."

Zatanna shrugged.

"I'm not a bragger, and you're clearly not a coddler, so I guess we're even, right?" she said simply, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows.

Artemis frowned hesitantly.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," she mumbled back. Zatanna brightened, straightening up.

"Okay. So let's try this again. I'm Zatanna Zatara, fourth year. And you are?" She produced her hand again, lowering her head expectantly.

Artemis rolled her eyes and shook her hand with slightly more vigor, huffing.

"Artemis. Crock, not like that's any big mystery. Fifth year, I… I think." She shifted her gaze questioningly to Dick, who nodded sagely. "Yeah. I'm a transfer, so…"

"From?" Zatanna inquired.

Artemis looked away.

"Muggle high school in Gotham City," she supplied vaguely.

Dick chose that moment to pipe up.

"But – your family's Pureblood. You're not a Squib. Why go to a Muggle school?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Because I wanted to?" Artemis sighed. "It's not really important. I'm here now, also because I want to be."

She largely expected Zatanna and Dick to grill her further, and Mal Duncan had apparently been listening the entire time because even he was frowning bemusedly down at her, but Zatanna surprised her.

"Well, welcome," the girl said frankly, beaming. "I'm sure you'll be a marvelous addition to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

On impulse, Artemis glanced over her shoulder at the Gryffindor table. Wally was staring at her, but he redirected his attention with incredible quickness – so incredible that Artemis almost thought he hadn't been looking at her at all – to Roy and Conner, grinning enthusiastically and plucking another chicken leg from the platter in front of Conner. The Slytherins beyond them were loud, raucous, and enlivened; Rose Wilson already seemed to be fitting in well, talking animatedly with a raven-haired, muscular girl that Artemis didn't know.

She turned her head back so that her eyes wandered to the Hufflepuffs – Megan, laughing charmingly into one hand, was beside a stoic-looking boy with dark skin, uncanny blonde hair, and almost white eyes, who was smiling coolly at her. Across from Megan was the excited blonde first-year – Cassandra Sandsmark – who was gesticulating feverishly, looking indescribably joyful to be there, as though she could have wished for nothing more in life.

Artemis picked up a fork.

"I'm glad somebody is," she muttered, but she finished with a smirk, and Zatanna rightly took it as a sign of friendliness, and she and Dick were blathering in unison about a hundred different things, and Artemis never ate so much – or felt so guiltless for it – in her life.

Classes began tomorrow.

_That_ was certainly going to be an experience.


End file.
